Seeing Green
by Hawki
Summary: Heroes of the Storm Oneshot: Life's good in the Cyber World mostly, providing you're not the one doing the fighting. It's good because the people doing said fighting will always want items to help them fight better. But what happens, you might ask, when one of those people just wants to kill you? Well, my friends, if you want to hear THAT story, you've come to the right place.


**Seeing Green**

A funny thing happened to me the other day.

Oh, did I forget to introduce myself? Name's Wayne. Wayne the Goblin. But you knew my species already right? I mean, what other species is as awesome and handsome as my own? Yeah, you got those prissy elves for the pointy ears thing, brutish orcs for the skin colour, and you may get a few demons with the claws, but combining all of that together? Nah. There's just us. Or at least, that's what I thought.

So, anyway, life's good round here in the Cyber World. The gods let us goblins come and go, selling our wares, even let us try out some of our toys on the battlers. Like when I gave Raynor that super-aim potion, only it turned out to be a laxative, and he hadn't repaired his armour's waste disposal system? Or when I gave Illidan that confidence boosting potion, which had a reverse effect, and instead he sat in a corner whimpering "I'm not prepared?" Or…well, you get the picture. Point is, most of my stuff actually works. Laxatives and potions aside, the gold keeps coming in, the blood keeps flowing, and the gods keep on organizing matches. Poor sods taken from Azeroth, Sanctuary, and the Koprulu sector. And…other realms I guess. Some Vikings turned up the other day and…hey! Hey! This is my story, not theirs!

So, anyway, it was a match like any other. Heroes fought, creeps were killed, minions died in droves, and I'd sold a cloak of flames to Tyrande who was kind enough to change within my shop (giggity giggity giggity). Match was still going, even after one of the heroes had dropped out for a replacement. Was that legal? Dunno, don't care. Newbie heroes need gear, and if they've got the gold, I'm happy to provide it to them. Or I was. Or rather, I'm happy to sell stuff to people who _aren't _trying to kill me. People who _aren't _Kyle Blackthorne.

Not that I knew who he was at the time mind you. When the guy walked in, I thought I was back in the 90s. The 1990s, not the 2490s, or the 990s, or any obscure date from the outer realms that I, being a goblin, don't give a kobold's dropping about. No, I mean the 1990s of Earth, when humans were quite happy to have heroes walking around in tattered shirts, carrying shotguns, and walking into goblin stores like they owned the place.

"Hello," I remember saying. "Stay awhile and listen."

Yeah, I went there. Poor Cain. No-one listened to him, so he got shipped back to Sanctuary. Or something. Heard some rumours about butterflies. But hearing wasn't the guy's strong suit. Instead, he just stared at me. Not at the guns, not at the potions, not even those bow and arrows that Sylvanas is so keen on using. No, he was staring at me. _Me_. Like he'd never seen a goblin before.

"Say goodnight grag'ohr," he whispered. Then he drew out his shotgun. And pointed it at me. And shot.

Now, let me make one thing perfectly clear – I'm okay with being shot at. What I'm _not _okay with is people not giving me a reason for it. You could say "I'm a git," or "I hate goblins, so I'm going to kill you." Perfectly valid reasons, y'know? Hell, maybe I killed your father and you want revenge or something. Or maybe I'm your real father and that's why your skin is green. And…oh, right. Shotgun.

So, anyway, I'm ducking behind my counter, wondering what I'm going to do, who this git is, and what on Sanctuary, Azeroth, or a K-sector world a grag'ohr is. And then he says something about Tuul, and the Androthi, and…what? What?! You want proper dialogue? You think I was listening to everything that nutter said? If you do, then you're dumber than you look and I hope you visit my shop, because I could sell you cow droppings and you'd think they were moisturizer. But, assuming that you _do _have more brains than the Butcher (seriously, what's with all his meat? Needs some vegies, that's what), I'll continue.

So, anyway, Mr Shotgun decided that standing and shooting wasn't enough. Instead, he got out this glowing grenade thing, tossed it, and destroyed my desk, and nearly me too. Not that it mattered much, as he grabbed me by the neck, and put his shotgun up to my chin.

"This is for Tuul," he whispered. "And every Androthi who suffered under you."

And he would have pulled it too, the git, if not for another git walking in. Going on about justice, and whatnot. Pulling the psycho off me, bringing his sword between us.

Yes, I'm talking about Tyrael by the way. Not fond of that guy really – too much honour, goes on about justice, and never buys anything from my shop. Maybe it's a sin or something. But that day at least, I was glad for his presence. And for every other hero who burst in, subdued the psycho, and stayed around for drinks. Match over. RnR time. Doesn't mean I'm giving you discounts.

It was the Skeleton King who later told me what happened, as he visited my store while I was cleaning it up at night. Why him, I don't know – I suppose being undead makes you less likely to get drunk, or prevents you from needing sleep. Point is, Tuul's a planet the guy's from, and the grag'ohr are, or were, orc/goblin-like creatures that enslaved his people, and he came to the Cyber World to hunt us down. That orcs and goblins are nothing alike notwithstanding, I accepted the story. And that the git's been thrown into the ring to partake in battles. Apparently he's quite happy to turn his rage against Thrall, Za'Muro, and any other greenskin from Azeroth who gets thrown in here. Huh…wonder if he's after Grunty too? Murlocs look kinda green.

So, that's that. Story over. We now have a representative from Tuul among us. Kyle Blackthorne. King of the Androthi, ruler of Tuul, biggest badass in the known universe. Though not multiverse. I think Raynor would pop a gasket if he heard that claim.

And sooner or later, he'll crack. He'll come to my shop. And then he'll see what I've been brewing up for him…

For a price of course. Course that's how I roll. Supply and demand, baby. Which is why you now owe me five pieces of gold for this story. It's not as if I'm going to post it on a website for free or anything.

Cheapskates.

* * *

_A/N_

_So, read in an article that Kyle Blackthorne will be added to _Blizzard All-Stars_. Certainly I hope that's the case, if only for the sake of variety. And it did get me wondering, how he'd react to all the orcs and goblins that are present, and whether he'd equate them with grag'ohr. From a gameplay sense, it hardly matters. From a narrative one...well, that's what fanfic's for._


End file.
